


oh darling, dance into my arms

by permink



Series: honey, this stage is for both of us (haikyuu dance au) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, They are all dancers, getting together fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:18:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9232550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permink/pseuds/permink
Summary: Kenma loves dancing.In which Kenma's performing at a big event.





	1. || Kenma Loves dancing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this work and remember to give me some (constructive) criticism.

Kenma really loved dancing.

He thought it was beautiful, using bodies to create these wonderful stories, without uttering a single word.

He remembered the first time he really got hooked on dancing.

He was in middle school, and was dragged along to his cousin's art school show, where everyone performed a piece.

He remembered the whispers of anticipation.

He remembered the rich swish of deep red velvet curtains as it revealed an enchanting costumed pair.

He remembered how everyone fell silent as eyes gazed upon them in awe.

He remembered the starting bars of music, and the in-time flowing of limbs.

He remembered the tragic story that didn't need words to explain.

All the story needed were the two dancers, who flung their hearts and souls into every movement and expression. Who acted like they lived the story, like nothing was around them but the other.

He remembered how his eyes widened and his heart seemed to stop while at the same time speed up.

That.

That was the moment that Kozume Kenma got hooked on dancing.


	2. Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me some constructive criticism please!

Kenma loved dancing, he loved the way limbs moved to form stories that words can’t.

That probably explained why 5 years later, he was attending one of the most prestigious art schools in the world.

Don't get him wrong, he loved it - well, most of the time. 

Now was not one of those times.

Kenma sighed, body heavy with exertion, and walked over to his laptop, wiping the accumulating sweat off his brow. He turned off the music and sighed yet again.

There were times that the choreo seemed to build itself, where everything flowed perfectly. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of them.

Artists have art block, writers have writer’s block.

Kenma, he had what you can only describe as dancer’s block. His limbs were itching to move and flow and throw his emotions into the music, but they refused to move naturally.

'Yoo! Kenma! How's the choreograph going?' A voice behind him greeted enthusiastically.

Kenma internally groaned. He loved Shouyou, he did truly. He was one of Kenma's first and only friends. But seriously, does that boy ever run out of energy? Turning to the orange-haired boy, he strained a small smile.

'It’s going... fine. Really.' Kenma cringed at his own hesitation, hoping Hinata wouldn't notice his mistake.

Hinata raised his eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

'Mmhmm. Sure.' ('Fuck', Kenma said to himself)

'What was your theme again?' 

'The panel chose it for me'

You see, in 3 months, Kenma was heading to perform at one of the biggest dance events in the world, HQ!! Dance. He was personally invited to attend, and to be honest while he was (obviously) honoured, he felt a looming pressure building up bit by bit every day. And Kenma doesn't deal with pressure very well.

'It's 'From Lovers to Strangers' Kenma recalled, 'which reminds me. Can you do me a favour?'

Hinata cocked his head to the side, suddenly curious. Kenma never asked for favours. He would rather become a wing spiker or middle blocker on Hinata's volleyball team than ask for one. 

'Uh, sure? What is it?' Shouyou could never resist helping someone.

'For my dance... they want it to be an interpretive style dance involving two people ' Kenma's voice shook a tiny bit out of nervousness. He looked down and played with his fingers.

'And?' Hinata raised his eyebrow.

Jesus this boy is clueless.

'Andiwantyoutodoitbecauseidon'tknowwhoelsetoask' Kenma mumbled.

'Uh. Come again?'

Kenma took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. 'And i want you to do it with me since i don't really have many friends and Yaku is busy with his inter-high performance with Lev-'

'YES OH MY GOD YES THANK YOU FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY'

Hinata jumped on Kenma and pulled the latter in for a hug, crushing his friend in the process. Kenma let out a sigh of relief.

'Oh thank god.'

'So, you need help choreographing or?'

'... yes.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that this is moving slowly bear with me please


	3. ||Frustration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really slow im sorry

Kenma loved dancing, there was no doubt about it. What he didn’t like though, was nearly getting whacked in the face.

‘Okay, so this is kind of working.’ Kenma had thought, just before Hinata recklessly flung his arm out in the wrong direction, narrowly missing hitting him in the face.

Brilliant.

Kenma sighed in resignation. He felt like he was sighing so often these days that it was becoming second nature, but he couldn’t help it. Frustration is the only emotion to describe him right now.

'I'm sorry! I just can't... get the groove of it, you know?' Hinata said sounding half apologetic, half resigned. 'It's just that I'm used to my more upbeat dancing style.’

Hinata grimaced and rubbed his eyes with exhaustion, the last 5 hours of heavy work finally taking its toll on the boy.

Kenma smiled as he remembered his friend's dance earlier in the year with a serious (and blunt) but talented boy named Kageyama that they performed at the annual dance competition. It was a truly beautiful dance that left viewers mulling over the true meaning of it.

They just seemed to have that connection that made it seem like the world didn’t exist for them in that moment and nothing matters except for each other. It was the kind of connection that hooked Kenma into dancing in the first place.

Of course, the duo had always denied the connection, stating it was 'acting' and 'what connection?' and their relationship was 'business only'. 

'Sure it is.' Kenma had simply said back then. 

Now he’s just counting the days until they get together.

 

'It's fine. I'm thankful you're doing this anyway. I know you have heaps of homework right now.' Kenma said dismissively, waving it off with his usual calm and quiet voice despite his true frustration and pent-up stress. Hinata, however, didn’t seem to notice and perked up.

Somehow, he felt a small sinking in his chest. Kenma had experienced it before. It was the looming, heavy feeling of ‘this isn’t going to end well’. He pushed it down deep, deep inside before taking a big breath.

'Shall we go again?'

'Sure.'

* * *

 

'FUCK.'

Hinata threw his dark blue drink bottle against the brick wall, falling onto the ground again with a dull thud that resounded emptily around the large room.

He picked it up and threw it again, harder this time.

Kenma looked on with disinterest, not bothering to interfere. After all, he was feeling the same thing. Well, maybe with less physical aggression.

There was an uncomfortable silence for about ten seconds before Kenma spoke, voice brimming with consolation.

'It's fine, we'll work thr-' 

Hinata’s head turned as quick as a whip to the blonde.

'NO. It's not fine! I.. I can't mess this up for you!' Hinata spat out, angry and frustrated with himself.

'It's your big chance at fame, and I can't ruin it for you. What friend would _I_ be to do that?'

He laughed bitterly, his voice not holding any mirth at it usually does. It sends cold chills down Kenma’s spine.

'I don't really care about fa-' Kenma started, before getting cut off by the smaller boy (honestly he was getting cut off more often now these days. If it wasn't Hinata that was doing it he would be pissed.)

'I know it's important to you! Don't lie to me.' Hinata angrily whispered the last sentence before turning to the door and sprinting out, leaving behind him the door swinging and Kenma wallowing in his own guilt.

* * *

 

Hinata returned the next day, mouth full of sincere apologies. Kenma just waved it off.

A distressing week passed, with days filled with frustration, bruises and a few soft tears.

Kenma didn’t like this. It felt like… something was missing. Somehow. He didn’t know what.

Frankly he was frustrated with himself.

Which naturally caused him to be passive-aggressive towards everyone (because to be honest, Kenma? Aggressive? Please) and Yaku doesn’t take that shit.

Add on top of that 2 essays.

Kenma. Was. Fucked.


	4. || Care for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> umm sooooo  
> kagehina for y'all?  
> idk

 

Kenma loved dancing, he drank up the sensation of being lost in the music like how prisoners greedily breathe in fresh air.

However, while he truly loved dancing, he wasn’t quite as obsessed as Hinata.

He knew, from the moment he met the excitable boy in the school corridor (or rather he was waiting for yaku to finish rehearsal and Hinata ran up to him and started talking to him when he spotted his dance shoes sticking out of his bag) that Hinata loved dancing. He was obsessed with it, even if for different reasons than Kenma.

Another thing that Kenma knew, is that Hinata overdid himself. And that shouldn’t be surprising, as Kenma did too. But Hinata was on a whole other level.

Kenma recalled a month ago, Hinata insisted on dancing with a strained knee. It was only after two hours of Kenma berating him and Hinata ignoring him that Kageyama asked Hinata with a very very soft and quiet voice to stop that he did. (Of course, Kenma inwardly went ship ship ship. Not that he would tell anyone.)

So when Kenma went back to the dance studio located in the school late at night after forgetting his laptop and he spotted a lone light coming from one of the rehearsal rooms, he knew what it was. Or rather, who it was.

Still, he left the studio without a word. He knew better than to interrupt Hinata when he’s invested in his practice.

* * *

 

Hinata clenched his fists, long nails digging into soft palms.

A few lone tears streamed down his face.

Soft sobs erupted from his burning throat.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

His heart was heavy with dissatisfaction.

He couldn’t dance it right.

At rehearsal Kenma had waved it off of course, but he knew that the blond was frustrated too, even if he pretended not to notice.

And Hinata loved him, of course. Well, in a friend way anyway. So obviously he would try his absolute hardest to not disappoint him. He was his best friend. He couldn’t do that to him.

Hinata quickly wiped the tears off his cheeks and started the music again.

He moved his aching limbs to the music, joints creaky with overuse.

That’s it, find the flow. Find the flow and run with it, like the sand lulled into the ocean waters.

He fell deeper and deeper into the song, lost in the music and his surroundings disappearing.

“HINATA”

He slipped at the loud words being shouted near his ear, and snapped out of his reverie. He immediately jerked to a stop.

Only one person he knew had such a terrifying voice and such immense presence.

Kageyama.

The orange haired boy turned to him, cowering in slight fear.

And he had every right to.

The boy was absolutely glowering, aura intimidating and dark.

‘uhh’

‘YOU DUMBASS!! WHY ARE YOU IN HERE SO LATE? YOU STUPID IDIOT WE HAVE CLASSES TOMORROW TOO!’

Kageyama was yelling at him, face turning red yet twisted with worry.

Hinata stood silent, words seeming to have left him.

‘Well?’ Kageyama raised his eyebrows, arms crossed.

‘You have no right to yell at me! I haven’t been here that long. Besides, it’s for Kenma’s dance.’ He pouted, standing stubbornly.

The black haired boy rubbed his temples and sighed.

‘Dumbass! You’ve been here for ages, haven’t you? Your muscles are probably screaming with pain.’ Kageyama said with finality.

He knew he was correct.

Hinata twitched, golden eyes not meeting Kageyama’s dark ones.

‘Um…’

He sighed.

‘C’mon, you idiot, I’ll walk you home.’ He beckoned for him to gather his things and Hinata complied, pout still present on his lips.

‘Kageyamaaaa,’ he teased, as the taller headed towards the door, Hinata in tow, ‘do you perhaps care about me?’

He got no reply.

 

And secretly, secretly, he hoped Kageyama did.

 

 


	5. ||Distress (miss me?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god it's been too long. maybe i'll continue this for writing's sake

Kenma loved dancing, but sometimes he wished he didn’t have to meet deadlines.

He preferred everything to be natural, in a way.

‘Dear Kenma, I would like to see the progress in your dance project. I have cleared your schedule for tomorrow.   
Please meet me in my office studio at 10am after your warm-up. You may spend the rest of the day off.   
Sincerely, Kubo-sensei’

Kenma groaned as he read through the email on his laptop.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his teacher, no. He really liked her actually. It’s just that, the dance didn’t seem right. It felt unnatural and stilted.

Like they both were just marionettes on strings, clunky and uncoordinated, rather than wind, gliding across plains.

It felt wrong.

‘Kenma, we should start again. We’ve been on break for 10 minutes!’ Hinata called, pulling Kenma out of his thoughts and back into the real world.

Kenma hummed in agreement, before starting the music up again.

Here goes.

* * *

Kenma opened his front door with impatience. To be frank, he was tired as shit.

It seemed like every day he was in that rehearsal room, practicing for hours on end. Trying to get that rhythm, that flow that Kenma desired.

The connection that made Kenma fall in love with dancing in the first place. But, however much he tried to claw at it, to find a single strand of it to hang on to, it seemed to always remain a centimetre out of his grasp.

How annoying.

He navigated his way to his bedroom, not even looking where he was going and just moving with muscle memory.

Once he reached his room, he inhaled deeply.

And flopped face first onto his bed. There was a faint ding from his phone, but he didn’t even notice.

He was fast asleep and a million miles away from the real world.

**Author's Note:**

> :)  
> please leave a comment below!


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